Ignites Like Gasoline
by Lawlei
Summary: "I shouldn't be in here, Blaine. I should be in jail." "You don't know that." "But I do...the reason I'm in here should put me in jail. I tell myself that everyday..."
1. Chapter 1

It was an average, expected day for one Blaine Anderson.

He woke up as usual, on the wrong side of bed – mind you, and walked across his usual footsteps from his bedroom, down the creaking stairs and to the small, but however lived in kitchen. From there he went to the cupboard, without even looking up at the thing, grabbed the nearest cereal box and placed it on the counter slightly angrily. He stopped for a moment and rubbed his eyes with his right hand, while scratching the back of his neck with his left. He grabbed his usual bowl then, poured it with his usually bought milk and wandered to his living room, with his lop-sided dressing gown following him close behind.

Work was usual, too. Although, working in a boring office where nothing really ever happened, Blaine had come to expect that much. It was Monday, which regrettably, Blaine had recently come to name ''Paperwork day,'' – due to the excessive amount of paperwork he had _every_ Monday, therefore leaving him to get it done all day. He took his regular breaks, however, probably a little more than should have been allowed, but he still did it anyway. Once every two hours, for fifteen minutes, he would either get up, walk to the building's exterior and take a long needed smoke, or he would, if he felt being watched over, simply put down his pen and sit back in his chair for the whole fifteen minutes. Although these might not seem like much, these breaks were about the only pleasure Blaine got from work at all.

At 5pm, on the dot, Blaine rose from his seat and almost ran to his car. It wasn't much, but he never really went anywhere anymore for it to need to be the most flashy of cars – all he really needed it for was work and going grocery shopping, two things he loathed the most in life. At almost lightning speed, or- lightning speed concerning his car, he set off home. Along the way, his mind was filled with possible ways to completely waste the rest of his day away. Perhaps he would watch TV all day? Most likely. Or perhaps he would stray from his ''usual'' routine and go somewhere? Not likely. Maybe he'd go out to a restaurant for once? Not on his own. Maybe he'd order take away? Definitely.

When he arrived home, he wasn't too impressed with himself. His eyes were dropping and he couldn't really keep them open, just like every day. He flung his coat, bag and shoes towards the stairs and they landed together in a messy heap. Blaine sighed, wondering when he would actually get around to picking those up, but with the way he was now wandering around the house like a zombie, he had no idea.

Slowly, but surely, Blaine made his way to his living room again. Once more, he sighed, looking around at the mess. If there ever was an accurate version of a ''bachelor pad,'' Blaine was certain it would surely be his 'pad,' that claimed the title. Pushing odd clothes and rubbish around, he managed to lay on his couch. After about a minute of shuffling, he found a comfortable position, however ridiculous it may look.

He wasn't sure how long he was out of it, it could have been hours for all he knew, not really checking the time before he shut his eyes and drifted to sleep. When he woke, he was brought into life again by an annoying, unwanted ringing. '_Great_,' Blaine thought, sitting up and rubbing the side of his head. '_I get some peace and quiet for once, when I don't want anybody, and I'm interrupted by a phone call. Nice timing, asshole_.' He slowly lifted himself up and walked over to the phone, with the hope the caller would give up and put the phone down before he got to it. All hope was lost when he reached the phone and the caller was still ringing. '_Persistent_,' Blaine thought. '_I really hope it isn't as important as it looks from this end_.' He sighed a little, before reaching out and picking up the phone.

''Hello?'' He asked, trying to sound a little bit cheery, but he couldn't be sure it came through like that on the other end.

There was silence for a short while, well – not entirely silence, Blaine could make out shuffling noises from the other end, so he was certain someone was there – if it wasn't for that, he would have put the phone down earlier. "Hello?" He repeated, all cheery-ness completely drained from his voice.

"Ah, yes...Mr Anderson?" Finally. A reply. There was a woman on the other end, who obviously Blaine had never met before.

"Speaking." He replied, almost immediately. He was intrigued now, it sounded more official than he'd ever remembered a conversation over the phone had ever been. He rubbed the same side of his head again with his free hand, trying to stop thinking of outlandish possibilities of what this phone call could be about.

"Oh, thank god." The woman replied, sighing a little at the end of her sentence. "This may sound a little random, but do you happen to remember a Mr. Sebastian Smythe?"

Blaine was cut short. For a few moments, he lost the ability to speak. It had been years since he'd heard that name. Sebastian Smythe had been one of his closest friends in high school, up until Graduation day, of course – when everything went spiralling downwards for their friendship. He hadn't been in contact with him since, he didn't know where he lived, where he was working, if anything. He didn't know whether he was married, whether he was still in town – heck, he didn't even know whether he was still alive or not. '_Oh, no._' Blaine thought, that last little idea began to haunt him.

Blaine had totally forgotten about the woman on the line, until she spoke up again. "Mr. Anderson?" She asked, Blaine was expecting an impatient tone, but alas, this woman was still calm. Suspicious – he thought...or maybe he was just over-thinking.

"Oh, umh yes?" He replied, a feeble attempt at disregarding the question altogether.

"...So, the name...Sebastian Smythe, is it any resemblance to you at all?" The woman asked, her words were getting slower and Blaine figured she was trying to get it all to sink in, just in case.

"Oh, yes definitely. We uh, we used to go to High School together. But why are you-?" Blaine was cut short, again- but this time not by his thoughts, but by the woman on the other end.

"Oh that's wonderful, just we've never heard him talk about you before and we wondered whether he was just making up stories again." She spat out, he words were almost too fast for Blaine to take in and he realised he had to say something to stop her from filling his head with more junk at lightning speed.

"Wait wait wait. Talking about me? Making things up? I'm sorry, lady – but I'm totally lost here."

"..So we never...?" She began, and Blaine heard faint shouting in the background of the call. Still completely lost, he didn't really want to take it into account. "Have we ever been in touch with you before ?"

"It would have helped if I know who ''we'' was, but I can't recall ever having a conversation over the phone this formal, so I'll just go ahead and say no – I'm pretty sure I would have remembered this one." Blaine replied. He was getting agitated, the fact no one seemed to be giving him vital information about anything was really pissing him off.

"Mr. Anderson, we're sorry we've kept this information from you for so long, we should have – if we had the right staff, you've noted down as a contact for since he got here, just without a number."

Blaine shook his head a little, sighing deeply. "Miss, none of this is going to help if you don't really tell me who you are or where you are or where the hell Sebastian is and why I'm written down as a contact – I haven't spoken to him since graduation, it all seems way too silly."

"This is why we needed to make sure, , Sebastian...well, Sebastian isn't himself. He hasn't been since he got here, that's why he's here. The past few months he's been telling a few of our staff about a ''Blaine Anderson,''. We couldn't be sure whether this person was real, but we recently checked his file and Sebastian insisted your name be kept there when he arrived..."

Slowly, Blaine began to piece a few things together. The woman kept on talking, giving him information he still felt was completely pointless. His thoughts were suddenly like a train station, what would officially be called ''chatter''or ''static'' as he remembered. He had so many ideas on what everything could be, until his thoughts zoomed in onto one word the woman said.

"Asylum,"

Blaine suddenly snapped back into reality, with that one word, all his suspicions were completely, and utterly stupid. Why hadn't he pieced this together before? He should have known, as soon as they started talking about Sebastian _not being himself_. "You're an Asylum?" He began, trying to keep himself calm, "Sebastian's in an Asylum? Why had I not known about this before? I mean, surely Sebastian would have wanted me to know if he insisted –-"

Once again, Blaine was cut off. " Mr. Anderson, this is our problem. We cannot explain everything to you over the phone, that's impossible. We can make arrangements for you to see one of our staff that knows Sebastian's situation to put you in the picture before you go anywhere near seeing him."

"Seeing him?"

"Yes."

"But I thought that you couldn't—"

"Times have changed, Mr. Anderson, and Sebastian is a different case altogether."


	2. Chapter 2

_Before I start, I'd like to say now a huge thank you for the response already. For just the first chapter, which doesn't really have anything on the amount I'm planning to do – I can't believe it. I have so much planned for this fanfic and it's heart warming to see that it's not just me this excited about it. Also, if you can spot the guest appearances in this chapter (induced due to too much of the artist while writing – which I'm glad about because it gave me ideas.), you can have a plate of internet cookies from me._

Blaine had successfully survived a week without his head exploding into a thousand and one pieces.

A week had passed successfully since the day Blaine had to sit through one of the most formal, confusing, and ridiculous phone calls of his life. Blaine wouldn't have bookmarked this in his mental calendar if it wasn't for the fact he'd had to have done the same three times since – why did planning for appointments have to be so complicated with him?

Work was still work – how very unfortunate, which didn't really help Blaine's mood at all. Maybe if it wasn't paperwork day again, Blaine's stars might have aligned more positively for the day, but apparently Monday just wasn't _ever_ Blaine's day. Failing that, no day seemed to ever be Blaine's day, or maybe that was just him, being how he is.

At five o'clock, like every day, Blaine ran straight to his car. His usual route was stuck into his brain, but today, Blaine wouldn't be going there first. A week prior it had been arranged, a week later, it was actually taking place. He didn't know the exact whereabouts of this Asylum that was giving him so much grief already, the only directions he'd been given were vague, given by that same woman that initiated the call last week, of whom Blaine still didn't even know the name of – great.

His appointment, if it could even be called an appointment, was scheduled at 5:30, apparently the earliest time after five the staff member he was apparently seeing would see him at. Remembering this, Blaine felt completely and utterly out-of-the-loop, which – to be honest, there was no other way of putting his situation into words right now. Out-of-the-loop? Bang. On.

20 minutes later, Blaine arrived. If it wasn't for the entirely dull looking building, with all it's grey surroundings, almost blacked out windows and near deserted car park, Blaine wouldn't be sure he'd arrived at the right place. He was early, something Blaine had tried to avoid in everything throughout his life, and so he sat back in his seat, sighed, and crossed his arms over his chest, as if he was about to take one of his ''I'm being watched,'' work breaks.

Slowly but surely, Blaine worked his way out of his car. He leaned against the door or a few moments, crossing his arms over his chest again, surveying the building a little more. Nothing looked inviting about this place – but then Blaine's brain kicked in again, realising it was an Asylum, which didn't need to be all that inviting. Maybe just for Blaine, whom, was finding it increasingly hard to take one step in that place.

Blaine tried to remind himself of what the woman on the phone had said. His memory flashed back to that ridiculous phone call, and Blaine regretted it almost immediately.

"_...just we've never heard him talk about you before,"_

"_...Sebastian...well, Sebastian isn't himself."_

"_...before you go anywhere near seeing him."_

Quite comically, Blaine hit the side of his head with his palm, trying to stop his AWOL thoughts from wandering into that phone call again. He knew he had to think about it, but he didn't really want to – ever.

Blaine sighed, lifting up his sleeve to check his watch. 5:26. His overactive brain, that Blaine was beginning to hate more and more by the second, told him it was now or never, and he pushed himself off his car, and headed for the ever uninviting brown doors – the only bit of ''colour,'' on the building.

Through the doors, the place didn't seem at all as bland as it did from the outside. As soon as he entered, he had to step back a few steps, for a rather tall, skinny, and all be it dark man ran past him all too fast, even almost into him. With a grunt, Blaine started forward again. There was a desk, about a few meters away from him in an arch shape, with tables and chairs either side of it. If he'd had no idea what this place was, he'd mistake it for any ordinary doctors surgery. Just with much, much more chaos and seemingly staff that know how to answer phone calls. Or, make them.

When he reached the desk, there was a blonde, somewhat alien looking woman stood with her back towards him. With a gentle tap on the shoulder, she turned around. "Ah...yes? How can I help you?" She asked – to Blaine, the voice was familiarly calm, and he came to the immediate conclusion that this was the woman who he'd been speaking to a week ago. He must have zoned out for a few moments, as the woman insisted. "How can I help you, sir?"

Blaine had no idea what to say. "Hi, I'm here because a week I got an annoying phone call about an old friend I haven't fucking seen in years"? Nope, not that – swearing might make a bad impression, but would that really matter? God knows. "I'm not really sure what I'm doing here, I just got a call about Sebastian Smythe and I don't even have any idea where he is, who I'm supposed to be seeing or whatever the fuck I'm doing here"?. Nope, swearing again – god damn it.

"I'm uh, I'm Blaine Anderson." Pathetic attempt.

The woman jumped up with that, and smiled a little. '_Great,_' Blaine thought. '_They're happy to see me, this can't be good_.'

"Ah yes, you're booked to see – now! Jesus! Alright, if you'd follow me –" And then, Blaine zoned out. His ears shut on their own, he couldn't help it.

He was idly led behind the desk, to a small, square room which Blaine had a feeling he would come to hate more than the actual building. Around the back of the room was the door, which blended in with it all too well. The woman opened the door for him, and Blaine nodded politely, about as polite he was going to get at all. Through the doors, it just looked like a compact version of outside it, with one large, round table, and five chairs seated around it. Blaine was suddenly reminded of countless meetings he'd had at work, and everything became even less appealing.

There was another woman sat at the head of the table, she was brunette, looked about an average size in both height and waistline, and average in the face. "_None too impressive_," Blaine thought – but like he really cared about that. "Hello," The woman said, much much more solemn than the woman who had led him into the room, which to Blaine was a plus. If this woman was supposed to fill him in with Sebastian's situation then he wanted to at least feel the woman had some sort of seriousness about her that Blaine matched so dearly.

Her name was Angela. And Angela, well – Angela wasn't as informative as Blaine had liked her to be, and Blaine wasn't expecting much. Out of all she'd told him, the most he got out of it was "Sebastian's been here for about 3 years now." And "Sebastian may want to tell you some of this stuff himself, he likes to talk about himself on bad days." _Bloody fantastic_.

Apart from that, there wasn't really much, apart from a surprise visit from supposedly one of the other members of the Asylum – which, evidently, resulted in a piece of fishy information for Blaine. _Yipee_.

"So, you see – Sebastian is a little touchy. We don't want to give you too much information if he wants to tell you himself, in time –" Blaine was sat across from Angela, with his head in his hands, looking up at her with blank eyes. If it wasn't for the fact he found Angela's voice to be drawing out so damn far, he could have fallen asleep right there, in the little box room that suddenly felt like a prison.

Suddenly, the one, grey door swung open, banging on the left side of the wall behind it. Inside the door frame, there was a familiar figure, but Blaine couldn't put his finger on it just yet. It was obviously a man – well, just, whom looked like he'd been awake for a year, his eyes were dark, his skin was grey – or maybe it was just pale? He had scruffy, dark hair that hung to just past his shoulders that swung a little in the motion of his movement. Everything about the man was dark, and it made Blaine compare the moment to something out of a movie. His skinny arms and legs were spread the width of the doorframe, and the palms of his hands rested direct on the doorframe. He was out of breath, panting slowly – and then Blaine realised where he'd seen him before. This was the man he'd had to let pass him when he came through the door, obviously, he'd been running again.

Angela looked up at all the commotion and her face became rather stern. "B-," Was all she got out, before the man started himself.

"Ange, Ange, Ange – They're trying to change me again, they're trying to get me to stop - I .." His breathless and entirely airy words were stopped by another man, who was now stood behind him. To Blaine, this other man looked like he was an overgrown teenage rebel, who clearly didn't understand what clothes sizes meant, which made him look like he was also trying to be some sort of hip hop legend icon, or something or other. His ridiculous hair didn't help him out, either. He now had his arms around the other's stomach, keeping a tight hold on him. Although, the man still tried his very best to struggle free, despite his obvious lack in the muscle department.

Angela spoke up again, with her stern look still plastered to her face. "B, calm down, okay? They're not trying to do that -" There was a look as if someone had made him watch his favourite pet die wash over ''B''s face, as if he wanted what he'd accused to be true – _weird_. "Tom," Angela began again, looking up towards the other man, who was still trying to keep ''B'' still. "You're here to see him, please don't let him run again, you know what he's like." Again, the same look washed over his face that did ''B''s, and then Blaine could see the slight resemblance.

The two left within the minute, as ''Tom,'' picked up ''B'' and kept the tight hold on him. Angela sighed, shutting the door quickly and turning around back to Blaine. She smiled weakly, before sitting back down at her chair. Blaine just looked at her with wide eyes – this was all _not_ what he had expected at all. Angela opened her mouth again to speak – but Blaine couldn't take any more of her voice, he had to speak, now.

"So, do they all have nicknames, then?" Blaine asked, his tone starting to become a little cocky.

Angela's smile turned into a smirk, "Only the ones they agree too."

"Do the other...patients call them by their nicknames, too?" Blaine couldn't get his words out quick enough, his mind wandered to Sebastian, ''B,'' was all too familiarly linked with Sebastian – and Blaine's past.

"Oh, yes – although, Sebastian never calls Bill by his, but we've never really known why." Angela stated, smiling at Blaine again.

Blaine looked down at the table, grey – how surprising. He sighed slightly, he knew damn well why Sebastian didn't call such patient B. "I know why." Blaine stated, looking up as he said so, towards the door the actual B was stood at moments ago. "When we were in High School, and when we were friends, Sebastian used to always call me B. I guess, if when I see him, he does the same – you have your answer."


	3. Chapter 3

_First of all, a big apology at how long this took to update. I wanted to start writing again when I had the most free time, I like to lose myself in it, you see – but school became a massive problem. Now though, everything's fine, so I'm hoping to update a lot more on this – I still have faith in it after all! Not beta'd, so any mistakes are purely my fault_.

It had undoubtedly been the single most hectic and emotionally challenging month Blaine Anderson could remember ever having to plough through in his life. And _that_ was definitely saying something.

Officially, it had been a month to the day since his first visit to Angela, a woman he'd began to hate right from the very first moment, and boy, was it getting worse each time. Last, he was sure he'd counted eight meetings with her since, which if Blaine could have had any say in it all, wouldn't have even existed. If it weren't for the fact that each time, Blaine felt almost in a cell with how compact and simple the damn 'room' behind the reception was, or the fact that Angela's draining voice rang in his ears so much that most of what she preached to him about Sebastian went through one ear and out of the other, then maybe – just maybe, he might have felt a little more at ease.

Nothing much had come to an improvement. Blaine's brain still felt like it had been replaced with sawdust, a feeling he hadn't felt for such a long period of time in donkeys years. Angela felt it right to use the most technical terms she could think of, and always, always on a loop. With Angela being how she is, giving Blaine absolutely no chance at getting a word in edgeways, he couldn't exactly explain to her how he didn't understand a word coming out of her mouth, he was just a paperwork boy, after all. Thus, Blaine felt as though he still knew absolutely nothing that might benefit him.

Today, however – none of it would really matter. All too regrettably, Blaine found himself strapped to the driver's seat of his car, hands on the wheel and pedals to the floor, heading for that old, grey, and still uninviting goddamn asylum. If he'd have seen himself now, he would have told himself he shouldn't have been driving. Everything that crossed him didn't register, his mind was fixated on the past and he was powerless to stop it. For today, finally, he would have exclaimed, was the day he'd be able to see Sebastian again, after all these confusing years.

Flashbacks were an understatement. This was fully fledged, Oscar worthy memories, freaky effects, voice echoes and all. Blaine's mind wandered from memory to memory, scaring him shitless of what was to come the further they delved. Mainly, however – Blaine's mind decided to remind him of that last, horrible day he'd seen Sebastian, the day everything changed.

Suddenly, Blaine noticed he'd come to a stop. Snapping out of those godforsaken flashbacks, Blaine shook his head rather comically. Looking out, he'd stopped at a red light, and the asylum he was headed for was in plain sight. It then occurred to Blaine, rather randomly, how clueless everyone around him, sitting in their perfectly washed cars, some bobbing their head to music, really must be. If they didn't somehow already know it, a few yards away, a whole box full of mentally unstable people were kept cooped up. For all they knew, that grey, unappealing place could have been something abandoned years ago. They didn't even know that if something went wrong to any of those kids, kids or not, their seemingly easy, routine lives could be disrupted forever.

Unfortunately, just like Blaine's.

Although, at this point, starting up his car again and slowly making his way into the almost abandoned car park, Blaine still had no idea whether this would be something gone ''wrong,'' or something gone ''right,''. But then again, only time would tell. Feeling his train of thought beginning to slip drastically again, and the fear of dragging himself into cinematic flashbacks again, Blaine ran for those tall, brown doors he'd soon have entered a whole ten times, each one worse than the other.

His sudden panic-breathing masked by the fact he might as well have been out of breath, Blaine tried his hardest to recollect himself in the wide doorway. Instinctively now, Blaine took a short step back. More often than not, who he'd jokingly come to name ''old friend,'' – B would pass him, running, and so to avoid been bowled over at all costs, Blaine had come to do this automatically. Sure enough, a few seconds later, while Blaine found himself straightening the collar on his pastel coloured shirt, B passed him at full charge. Watching eagerly, almost craning his neck, sure enough, the guy wearing baggy clothes that had carried the almost-youngster away charged after him. Each time, Blaine found this about the only slightly comical thing about this place - however, it did bring back Blaine's old nickname to his attention, which wasn't always the best thing.

Erratic breathing calming a little due to the sudden distraction, Blaine shot his eyes directly forward – there it was. The arch shaped reception desk he still thought looked like it belonged more in a doctor's surgery. Trying his best to look as 'cool' about everything as possible, Blaine strode towards the terracotta wood. While breathing as deeply as possible, feeling like the smallest hot air balloon in the world, Blaine softly leaned against the wood; both elbows planted firmly, head in hands. He sighed one of the longest sighs he could remember, and waited as patiently as humanely possible.

It wasn't all too long before the same woman - who, a few weeks back, Blaine had found out her name was Faye – whom had had her back to him right on that first day, came towards him with that same slightly warming smile unnerving for this sort of place. "Aah, Blaine! Today's the day, isn't it? Oh, lovely! We just need to wait for Angela to come find you – I'm pretty sure she's with Sebastian at the moment, and then you can get started, okay?" The first thing that shot to Blaine's mind, was the fact that it almost seemed as though he'd become a regular. Like a man with a swollen stomach at a local free house – something that set Blaine's _own_ stomach off.

However, the next thought that caught his mind slowly began to torture him. The fact was, the Blaine had literally no idea what he was expecting. Somewhat lost in the thought, Faye left his side and went behind the reception again, but Blaine didn't really care – he was already away. Blaine really had no idea what had happened to Sebastian, what would have put him in such a state to be placed into an asylum, of all places. Common sense told Blaine it had to be serious, undoubtedly causing him to become a threat to himself or others – so nothing would have been pretty. Although...this was Sebastian. Blaine couldn't really recall a time in the past when Sebastian wasn't that appealing, but that was an entirely different past all together, one that he hadn't visited in a very, very long time, and planned not to for the same amount.

Panic began to set in again, and as time seemed to pass him by, Blaine soon saw Angela coming to greet him. All too great. She said something in her most annoying voice, and Blaine replied all too quickly. Almost in an outer body experience, or something along those lines, Blaine's next actions never really registered. He found himself following Angela, down to the right side of the building Blaine remembered held the toilets, but didn't really know much else. Through a slim, white door they ventured through, soon met by a narrow dark corridor which split off to either direction a few meters from the same door. Blaine remembered that besides the visitors and staff toilets, left was a dead end, so it was no surprise he found himself wandering absent-mindedly to the right. On each side of this wider corridor there held white doors similar to the one he found himself wandering through moments ago. Although, these doors had little letterbox windows at the top, and somehow Blaine immediately linked these to reminding him of bedrooms, then he suddenly realised that all these visits he'd had, he'd been closer to Sebastian than he'd thought. A scary, but somehow weirdly warming thought.

Angela suddenly stopped, and Blaine almost ran into her, however embarrassing that might have looked. Standing straight again, Blaine snapped back in to reality. Angela gave him a weak smile, and then Blaine realised they were stood beside a door. And then Angela spoke up, loud enough so that anyone inside _that_ door would be able to hear. "As this is your first time," Angela began, slow and steady, " I simply cannot leave you unattended. However; I can leave the room, but I will be stood right here at all times. If you need anything for any reason, speak up, and I'll probably be able to hear it. These walls are like paper for a reason."

Blaine gulped, hard. His eyes expanded as Angela unlocked and swung open the door. No one could be seen just yet, but maybe Blaine wasn't looking for anyone. Maybe he was still trying to convince himself this was a long nightmare? Blaine shot a worried look to Angela. All she did was nod – such a great help to Blaine. This was it, this was what the last month of pain was meant for, this moment right here, the moment of truth, and the moment of so many other things, or at least in Blaine's mind.

Edging forward, step by step, Blaine ventured through the doorway and stopped as he heard the door close behind him. He gulped again, closing his eyes and taking the deepest breath possible. Blaine was suddenly reminded of how he used to calm his nerves before a show and realised he was doing the exact same technique– gosh, how long ago was _that_?

The room behind the door was small, more like a box than anything else. A small window, again box like, stood directly opposite of Blaine in the doorway. A small, rickety looking bed lain underneath it, up against the right wall, covered in white, crinkly sheets, matching the colour of the wall. On it, a medium sized, somewhat shadowy looking human was curled up with their knees to their chest. Bingo.

Assuming he hadn't heard any of his actions, Blaine edged even more forward, gaining a better glimpse of the somewhat familiar figure. He was sat, still as anything, staring rather blankly at the wall in front of him – the left wall. Edging round, Blaine took it upon himself to try and get his attention, although with his dark fringe surprisingly covering his eyes (something entirely new to Blaine, in high school, this would _never_ have happened) he feared it would become a hard job all too soon. Reaching him, he stood tall while still trying to keep a good look at him. No reaction. With this sort of vacancy, Blaine decided this be the best time to analyze the differences, however confused and creeped he was about the fact his old best friend sat there before him without any form of reaction to the fact he was _right there_.

Apart from the fringe, the first drastic thing different about young Sebastian was the fact he could have blended in with all the white in the room. Blaine never thought Sebastian was the most tanned of all people, but back then, he at least had _some _colour to him. Now? Totally gone, as white as a sheet, as you might say. Under the dull, lifeless colour of his hair, Blaine had to crouch in front of the bed to be able to get any glimpse of those _oh so familiar _eyes. Although, Blaine soon regretted this.

They were entirely lifeless, and Blaine suddenly felt sorrier for Sebastian than he'd ever remembered before. High School was always Sebastian's playground, so a glimmer or a sparkle to his eyes was nearly always present. The best was always when Sebastian took the stage, what he used to call his true home, however cliché it might have sounded. Now, his eyes where nothing like they used to be, as if Sebastian had lost all his glory within them, but of course, he probably had.

But then, Blaine jumped. A cool, skinny had planted itself on his left cheek. Taken aback, Blaine's expression must've been so amusing. He continued to study Sebastian's face, but there was still no emotion there at all. Wondering how he might be able to get through to his old friend, countless ideas cycled through his mind like the flashbacks had done what felt like ages ago. And then Blaine realised – maybe Sebastian had really gone into that hole that he'd been subconsciously dreading all this time? Maybe Sebastian wasn't at all sure if Blaine was entirely real? It would of course, explain the cold hand still cupping his face. Thus, Blaine decided it would be best to speak.

Without much else jumping to mind to say, the situation was rather awkward after all, Blaine cleared his through and declared: "Seb, no _way_ is that you." It felt so much more like their past. Their scary, unfinished past that Blaine was sure they both really missed.

However, that had done the trick. Like Blaine had done twice before, Sebastian snapped fully awake. At first, his expression was undoubtedly shocked. Blaine thought this a little weird, but what would he expect? But then, all of a sudden, the expression on Sebastian's face changed entirely. As Blaine watched intently, the glory in Sebastian's eyes was beginning to restore, and a small, one sided smirk washed across his mouth as he reached to wrap his white, frail arms around Blaine just to say one, simple thing in the croakiest of Sebastian's many voices.

"B... you came to find me."

Blaine's beloved Sebastian came back.


End file.
